Things I Shouldn't Have Done

ten.

Ryker Blaze

I'm finally back home after a long day in San Francisco. I am extremely happy because my father is at a film festival, so I am home alone with only the servants and my mother.

I approached her room. Her illness was getting worse and worse. That was hard to watch. She used to be as solid as a rock. And wise. And now she is trapped in a world of her own fears and confusion.

"Mom" I whisper softly, trying to wake her up from her restlessness.

She looks at me, eyes full of fear and uncertainty. Her hands are shaking as she tries to figure out where she is.

I try to speak to her calmly, but instead of words, all I hear are her muffled sighs and occasional outbursts of fear radiating from her eyes.

"Mom, everything is fine..." I tell her, holding her hand.

"I'm here with you."

She begins to shout, overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness and fear that I cannot, and will never be able to understand. At that moment, I feel a pain in my chest, as if something inside is suffocating me.

Mom medc. my sister appears immediately and I go to the room, closing the door behind me, I need a moment to gather myself. Maybe two. Or more. I feel helpless and lost in front of a loved one who was no longer the person I knew.

Sitting on the bed, I try to hide the tears that roll down my cheeks. The only thing I'm weak against is my mother. Remembering her always makes me cry. That hurts to see. It fucking hurts.

When mom got sick, dad decided that he would be treated at home so that the public wouldn't find out about it. Because he was partly the cause of her illness.

It became difficult for her to bear the burdens of fame.

And it ended when my brother Austin left home. His relationship with his dad was terrible and he couldn't live with us anymore. After that he had a fight with me. I said a lot of ugly things to him that I didn't mean.

I was a kid then. I was only fifteen years old and then my father's mental abuse spread to me. In order to vent all that anger, I started boxing and then working on my body through equipment and training.

So, I put on my gloves and go to my gym.

                                                                                        ***

That night, I dreamed of Kyla. It was so real that I could feel every touch, every smell. In the dream, we were alone, far from everyone, on the beach. The sea roared in the background as she lay next to me, smiling.

Her hands moved gently over my body, exploring every muscle. Her fingers ran through my hair as her lips moved closer to mine. I could feel her warmth, her breath on my neck, every gentle kiss she left on my skin.

The feeling was incredible, almost painfully good.

Her eyes shone in the darkness, looking at me with such warmth and lust that it almost hurt. Her body intertwined with mine, every movement perfectly synchronized.

But then, at the moment when things became most intense, I woke up. My heart was beating wildly, my body was covered in sweat. I looked around, trying to come back to reality.

But the dream was too real, too tangible. I felt like I had crossed a line that I should never have crossed.

I knew it had to stop. This is not healthy, neither for me nor for Kyla. I couldn't let this ruin everything.

I picked up my phone and quickly texted Marcus.

We need to talk. I want you to seduce Kyla. I have to stop thinking about her.

I immediately felt a wave of guilt. But this is the only way. I can't let this ruin everything. I have to stop this madness before it's too late.